GIR
by zuzuthezombie
Summary: Zim teaches Gir how to write his name.  Short, pointless fluffy stuff.  And guess what?  I don't own anything!  Really didn't know what to put for the title...


**Hey! I guess it's me again! I had this idea in my head for awhile now, and decided to get it out. Flames are openly accepted, because they will be used to make marshmallows, pie, weenies, destroy this planet, waffles, and the like. ~ :| zuzu**

"Ugh. Skool was _horrible_!" Zim dropped his backpack and disguise messily down next to the entryway and flopped onto the couch, face buried in the pink cushions.

"Awww! Mastah needs a huuuug!" Out of the corner of his eye he could see a bubble-coated Gir advancing towards him. He tolerated being enveloped in sticky bubbles for a bit, then shoved Gir away. Who knew what they were made of. He went over and picked up his backpack, then shuffled wearily to the kitchen table. He plopped down in a chair. Gir had been following, trying to match his footsteps exactly.

"Watcha doin, Mastah?" Gir hopped up onto the table, staring at Zim intently.

Zim sighed. "Homework. These filthy Hyuuman characters are impossible!" He took out a pencil and a worksheet, scribbling his name down in capitol letters on the line. It was hard to do lowercase.

"What's that?" Gir pointed to Zim's name.

"My name, Gir." Zim replied impatiently.

"Ooooh! How do ya spell my name, Mastah?"

"G-I-R. Now, leave me be!" Zim brushed him away, attempting to ignore him, but the android was persitent.

"Can ya teach me how to write it like you, Mastah?" Gir clasped his hands on the side of his head and tipped his head to the side, smiling.

Zim glared at his servant, although Zim seemed to be the one doing stuff for Gir. "No, Gir. I need to do my homework!"

Gir shrieked and began beating the side of Zim's head with an old, plain, black, metal spiral notebook. After a while of this, Zim finally gave in.

"Alright, Gir! But only if you promise to leave me alone!" Zim snatched the notebook from the metal hand, and Gir scooted a chair close to Zim, so that the edges of the seats were touching. He quickly settled down, looking at his master expectantly.

Zim flipped to a clean page, slapping the pencil and paper down in front of Gir. "Now!" He commanded. "Write your name!"

Gir clumsily took the pencil, or jklnd in Irken, and looked sheepishy back up to his master. "Umm.. how do ya spell that again?"

"G... I... R...!" Zim glanced down at him. Gir had been trying to make the letters from what he had seen of the English language, but what he wrote was just a bunch of squiggles. He shyly offered it to his leader, as if he thought he might get mad, and, knowing Zim, he probably would.

"Um, no Gir." He reached out and wrote Gir on the paper. "Copy that."

Gir obligingly took the_ jklnd _again and tried to copy it down. It looked more like something someone had done on purpose, rather than a bunch of accidental lines.

"...not quite... try again, okay?" Zim said encouragingly. Gir pouted, then regained his composure and tried again, like his master had said, his square tongue poking out the side of his mouth. He grinned triumphantly and showed it to Zim again. It looked a bit better, more like actual letters.

"Mmmm, not quite..." Zim looked down at Gir.

Gir's lip trembled. "That's what you said last time!" He began crying and banging his head on the edge of the table, making small dents.

"Nonononono! I'll help you, Gir!" He carefully grabbed Gir's head. Gir looked up in disbelief. He hadn't thought about that possibility, that he would _actually _help him! Him! It had been drilled into Gir's head also that you should respect and listen to all others who were taller, and they had more priveliges, so why would they help those shorter than them? It made no sense, but Gir liked it. He rarely listened to his Tallers anyway.

Zim took Gir's hand in his own, and wrote the name Gir sveral times.

"Do you get it now?" Zim raised his anntennae at him in question.

Gir sniffled. "Yep. I fink so." He slowly and shakily began writing his name. When he was done, he closed his eyes, afraid to see his latest failure.

Zim clapped happily at him. "Yay Gir! You did it! You wrote your name!" It was large and sloppy, but the word Gir was clearly on the paper.

Gir cracked an eye open. "I-I did it?"

"Yeah! You did it, Gir! Good for you! Now, I need to do my homework." Zim gently removed the _jklnd _from Gir's hand.

Gir hopped off his chair and removed a magnet from his head, sticking it proudly up on the fridge. "Will you teach me how to write other stuff after you is done?" He asked hesitantly, hands behind his back.

Zim looked up from his paper, smiling gently. "Anything you want, Gir, I'll help you write."

"YAAAAYYAA!" Gir screeched crazily, and careened off to watch the Scary Monkey Show, drinking a SuckMunkey. Zim would never admit it, but he really and truly loved Gir. He just had a strange way of showing it.

**Hope you enjoyed! ~ :| zuzu**


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